Every Plan
by loveadubdub
Summary: Every plan is a tiny prayer to Father Time.


**EVERY PLAN**

…

Puck's already bored, and this thing hasn't even started yet.

Don't ask him his opinion on teenage marriages. It's not like he's totally _against _it or whatever, but he doesn't see the point in rushing into it. They're too young to get married, and he's pretty sure they both know it. But he's not going to say it. It's not his business.

If they want to become a bunch of statistics, that's their problem.

But they really need to get the show on the road.

Finn's whining at Rachel telling her they have to hurry or they're gonna miss their time slot. Rachel's whining back that they need to wait for Quinn. She's crazy if she thinks Quinn's going to hurry anywhere. She doesn't hurry for anyone, especially not for Rachel Berry. Especially not for Rachel Berry marrying Finn Hudson. They should just go on without her. _If _she actually shows up, she can jump in some pictures and eat some cake or whatever.

But there's no point in waiting for her.

He walks out into the hallway just because he's bored listening to their pointless argument. Mike follows him, and they roll their eyes at each other without even saying anything. They both know what the other one's thinking, and they're both irritated with this whole mess. They've been in dress clothes _way _too long today, and it's annoying.

They're leaning against the wall just talking about bullshit when they hear it. There's a police scanner buzzing behind one of the clerks, and the normal BS is interrupted by a quick-speaking woman.

"Two vehicle car accident at 3200 mile of North Dixie Highway. Immediate backup is requested. 2000 Ford Ranger, driver injured but alert. 2010 Volkswagen Beetle, driver appears to be female aged 16 to 20. Driver unresponsive on scene. Immediate medical and police backup is requested."

He feels like the air's literally being sucked out of his lungs.

He forgets Mike's there til he feels a hand on his arm. He looks at him, and once again, they're both thinking the same thing. That's not some random car accident.

That's Quinn.

…

Rachel doesn't believe it when Mike comes in and tells them.

Somebody, Tina maybe, starts crying right away. But Rachel can't cry. She's too stunned. There's no way this is happening. Not right now. Not ever, but especially not right now. She's supposed to be getting _married- _this can't be happening.

She feels immediately guilty for even thinking that.

But Quinn… She just talked to her. She just texted her… A horrible thought enters her head, and she wonders if her texting had anything to do with it. No. _No. _That can't be true. Quinn's not that dumb- she wouldn't let herself get distracted like that.

She just wouldn't…

Santana's got her phone out, snapping at Artie to leave her alone when he asks her what she's doing. Everyone stares at her, but she stands there with the phone to her ear and doesn't say a word. After what seems like forever, she finally mumbles, "She won't answer…" and Rachel feels herself tearing up.

Finn's there beside her, and she wants him to put an arm around her or something, but he's just standing there. His face is very pale, and he looks like he's in shock. Half of the room looks to be in shock, and nobody's moving. She goes to her daddy instead, and he pulls her close. He's looking at the other adults, and they're all exchanging silent looks wondering what they should do.

It hits her then. She's the one in the wedding dress, and she's also the one recognizing that there are adults in the room and that she's not one of them. Finn isn't, either, and when he finally looks at her from across the room, she can see how scared he is.

This can't be happening.

…

It's like déjà vu or whatever that word is.

Two years ago at Regionals, they left the competition to all sit in the waiting room of the hospital while Quinn was giving birth. Now they left Regionals for a wedding and then left the _wedding _to sit in a waiting room in a different wing of the same hospital. But Quinn's not giving birth this time. She's… Well, nobody really knows.

Finn can look around the room and tell that everybody else is just as worried as he is. Nobody's talking or doing anything. They're all just sitting there staring at the floor or staring at the wall. It's crazy. They were supposed to be at a wedding reception right now- _his _wedding reception. But instead, they're all sitting around in tuxes and bridesmaids dresses looking like they're about to be sick.

Rachel's the only one in different clothes. She had a dress with her to change into after the wedding, and she put it on when they got the hospital. She said she couldn't sit around in a wedding dress when Quinn could be dead or dying somewhere. He didn't say much to her, but he doesn't want to think like that. He doesn't want to believe that Quinn's anything but fine and totally okay.

Mrs. Fabray's there, and that's really the only _real _confirmation they have that Quinn's even here and that the police call Puck and Mike heard was actually her. They assumed or whatever because it was too close of a description not to be, but they really just came to the hospital without knowing for sure. But then Mrs. Fabray showed up and ignored all of them as she went running past the waiting room, so they knew then.

They just don't know anything else.

It's Santana, weirdly, who actually breaks down first. Tina's been crying off and on, but she always lets herself go for a couple of minutes and then gets it under control. But they're all sitting there in the waiting room, and it's seriously been like two hours since they got here. And then Santana just breaks down out of nowhere and starts crying

Brittany puts an arm around her and whispers something, but Santana shakes her head like she doesn't want to listen. Everybody's looking at her, and they probably shouldn't be because crying like that is embarrassing, and Santana hates being embarrassed. But nobody can really help it.

It's not like there's anything else to look at.

…

Sam can't sit here and watch Santana cry anymore.

He just can't sit here at all actually. They've been here for hours, and nobody's talking. Nobody's doing anything except just sitting there staring at each other, and he can't take it anymore. Rory's beside him, and he tells him he's going to get a drink. He's not really thirsty or whatever, but he's sick of just sitting there doing nothing.

He doesn't know where a drink machine is, so he just starts walking. He's only been in this hospital once before, but it was just to the ER when his little brother had a bike wreck and had to get six stitches in his chin last year. He has no idea where anything is, so he's just walking around looking for something that might tell him where the vending machines are.

He walks past another waiting room, basically just like the one he just left except way less crowded. He stops because he sees Mrs. Fabray sitting all alone in one of the corners. She's got her head down, and he kind of thinks she's asleep til she looks up all of a sudden like she can feel him staring at her.

He doesn't know what to do now that he's been caught, but he figures he has to at least go over and say something. It would be really rude to just walk away. He debates about sitting down, but he thinks it's weird if he stands up while she's sitting, so he takes the chair beside her and says, "Hi."

He knows Mrs. Fabray pretty well. He went to her house plenty while he was dating Quinn, and he sees her at church all the time. She's always been nice to him, even though he's always thought she was kind of weird. Quinn complains about her a lot, but he knows what happened while she was pregnant, so he thinks she's always kept some kind of resentment or something. But to him personally, Mrs. Fabray has always been really nice.

"They won't tell me anything."

Her voice is hoarse like she's been crying or something, and she looks ten years older than she did the last time he saw her on Wednesday at the after-service potluck. He doesn't know what he's supposed to say or do right now. She always looks so put-together and always has this (probably fake) smile on like her whole life's perfect. But right now she looks terrible and a mess and pretty much like _nothing's _perfect.

Luckily, she keeps talking, so he doesn't have to say anything. "She's in surgery, but they won't tell me how she is… I don't even know what happened." Her voice is dull and just sort of empty-sounding, not like his own mom who would be going hysterical and screaming right now if it was him on the operating table.

They sit there in silence for a really long time after that. He feels pretty uncomfortable, but he knows it'd be really rude to leave right now. It's probably rude that he's not saying anything, but he doesn't know what he's supposed to say that would make anything better. He doesn't know how long they sit there just both staring at the floor until Mrs. Fabray finally says, "How did the competition go?"

"We won." His own voice sounds weak, too, and he has that tugging behind his throat that means he's close to crying. But he's not gonna let himself.

She gives him the smallest kind of smile and holds it for maybe five seconds. Then her face changes, like literally falls or something, and before he knows it, she's crying. Instinct tells him to comfort her, so he puts an arm around her to pat her back a little bit. But she leans over closer to him, and he knows he's supposed to hug her. He does, and it's kind of weird because she's his ex-girlfriend's mother, but it's also kind of natural because she obviously just wants somebody to be there for her.

He can do that.

…

Will doesn't know what to do.

Santana's crying has set off a chain reaction, and now he's got at least half of his kids either fighting tears or actually letting them fall. He can't decide whether that's better or worse than them all sitting around like zombies. It would be better if he had any idea what to do or how to handle this situation, but he doesn't. He looks over at Sue who is sitting up very straight and watching the kids without showing any emotion herself. He knows what her defensive look is, and she's shutting herself off, refusing to let herself feel anything so that her own tears don't join the rest of the ones in this waiting room.

The clock says that it's a quarter til nine, which means that they've been here over three hours. Everyone's still in their clothes from the wedding even though all the tux jackets are off along with half the ties. He feels a little guilty for being relieved that the wedding was stopped before it began, but he can't help feeling that Finn and Rachel would have been making the hugest mistakes of their lives by going through with it. But he feels like shit even thinking it because… Quinn.

She's been through so much these past few years, and she hasn't always been the nicest or most positive person during that time. But she's come a long way. She's finally at a point in her life where she's okay and comfortable in her own skin. She's going to _Yale _for Christ's sake. Yale. Her future should be amazing.

And now there's a chance she won't even get to see that future.

He can't think like that. He can't because he's got fourteen other kids that he's responsible for sitting in a waiting room needing some kind of guidance. That's supposed to be his forte, right? He sucks as a Spanish teacher, but he's great with his glee kids… Except he has no idea what to do or say right now. They all need him, and he should be able to give them some kind of support, but he can't.

He's never felt more like a failure.

…

Santana gets up and leaves because she can't handle it anymore.

Her eyes are stinging, and she feels like she might throw up. She's been crying for too long, and she needs fresh air or something. Something or she's going to smother to death in this god-forsaken waiting room. She doesn't say anything to anybody when she gets up, but she feels Brittany follow her. Part of her just wants to be alone, but she doesn't say anything because she doesn't want to hurt Brittany's feelings.

They go outside to this little patio that's labeled Smoking Area. It's probably not the best place to get fresh air, but at least it's less constricted than that stupid waiting room. There are some nurses and doctors and stuff out here along with some regular people. It's pretty fucked up that doctors need to visit a designated smoking area since they should, you know, be aware that smoking _kills _people. But whatever.

"Do you think she's going to be okay?" Brittany's voice is all quiet when they lean against a bricked over ledge. It's really dark outside, but the area under this little pavilion is lit up with bright, fluorescent lights that make it kind of hard to see anything else.

Santana doesn't mean to snap, but she does anyway. It feels like an immediate response, and she can't even really make herself feel too bad. "How the hell would I know?"

Brittany frowns and looks at the ground. Santana should feel worse about being a bitch, but she can't feel anything right now except… whatever this is inside of her.

She was already planning a bevy of insults she could throw at Quinn once they got to Cheerios practice. She was already planning on throwing a fit and threatening to quit if Coach Sylvester let her anywhere near the captaincy. She was already pissed off and jealous that Quinn was once again getting everything she wanted just by asking for it and flipping her stupid magical blonde hair.

And now… Now Quinn might be dead. And all Santana can think of is how livid she was just a few hours ago when Kurt and Blaine showed up in the bridal room and announced that Quinn was once again sporting a Cheerios uniform.

She feels the tears coming back, and she tries to fight them for a few seconds, but then she gives up. She knows some people are looking at her, but fuck them.

This time when Brittany hugs her, she doesn't push her away.

…

Two years ago, Mercedes was in the delivery room with Quinn while Beth was born.

Now she's in the waiting room with everybody else while they wait to find out what happened and if Quinn's even okay. She doesn't know what's happened between then and now. After the baby was born and Quinn went home with her mom, things just kind of fell back to the way they were before. She hardly talks to Quinn anymore, and when she does, it's always just in glee club. They aren't really friends outside of that, and it kind of sucks because there was a point when they were pretty good together.

But things change. They've both changed a lot in the last couple of years. Hopefully they've both changed for the better, but part of her wishes they were actually still friends. Right now she'd give anything for somebody to just tell them Quinn's okay, but she has a terrible feeling that they're going to be waiting a very long time for that.

She looks around at everyone else. It's getting late, and both Rachel and Sugar are curled up in their chairs asleep. Santana and Brittany disappeared a little while ago, but they're not the only ones who are missing.

"Where's Sam?"

Everyone kind of looks around like they're just now noticing that he's not there. Rory's playing with his fingernails, but he looks up and says, "He went to get something to drink. But it's been awhile."

She wonders if he left. She wouldn't blame him really. Sitting here isn't doing anyone any good, and she knows Sam's close to Quinn. They dated for awhile, and they go to church together. They're friends outside of just glee, so she knows he's probably worried or upset. But she can't really believe he'd just leave without telling anyone. He wouldn't tell her anyway- she's made a point of not talking to him unless absolutely necessary, and even though she has her reasons, she's still a little disappointed that he's finally started to get the hint.

Kurt's on her left, and he leans his head over and puts it on her shoulder. She sees him let out a breath like he's been holding it, and she lets her head drop on top of his. She hasn't cried yet, and she can't see herself starting now.

So instead, she just prays.

…

Kurt thinks of all the bad things the people in this room have done or said to each other.

It's probably the wrong time to be thinking about it, but he can't help that that's where his brain goes. They've done and said some pretty terrible things over the past few years. There's not one person in here who isn't guilty of it on some level, and that's just sad. They're supposed to be a family or something, but they spend as much time fighting as they do loving each other.

But even though they can be really shitty to each other, when something bad happens to one of them, they still always manage to band together.

When somebody has an egg smashed on their head. Or when somebody's being tortured for their sexuality. Or when somebody's family loses everything and ends up homeless. Or when somebody's car gets smashed on the way to a wedding… They all come together.

Even though everyone's had their ups and downs with each other, they're all still there together when push comes to shove. So maybe they're more like a family than he gives them credit for.

People are passing out all over the place. It's 11:30, which isn't that late, but they've been sitting here for so long that it feels much later than that. And also exhausting. He counts six sleeping people and at least three others who look like they're on the edge of being out as well. But then Sam shows up out of nowhere, and he kind of takes everyone's attention- everyone who's actually conscious anyway.

"She's out of surgery." He looks really tired, and his voice is kind of hoarse. Everybody's just staring at him, and he leans against the wall by the doorway and looks down.

"What? Did you see her?" Mr. Schue stands up like this news means he's suddenly got somewhere to go or something.

Sam shakes his head. "I found her mom. The doctor came and said she's out of surgery and then took her mom back to see her."

"Well, what happened?"

"I don't know."

"Is she okay?"

"I don't know."

"Can she have visitors?"

"I don't know!" Sam's voice finally raises almost into a yell when he obviously can't take everyone's questions. It shuts everybody up, and he just kind of slumps down into a chair beside Finn. He looks like he's going to cry, and if that happens, it's going to start everyone else going again. That's how it works around here- one person cries, then somebody else cries, then somebody else, and so on and so on.

Kurt's not sure how many more tears he can take right now.

…

Artie has this thing about car accidents. They kind of give him flashbacks.

He doesn't like to hear about them on the news or see pictures or videos on the Internet. He just likes to pretend like they don't happen. Because if they just don't happen, it's a whole lot easier for him to not immediately flashback to the scariest time of his life.

He was eight when he had his accident. Eight is a really bad age for anything big to occur because it's an age where you're old enough to basically remember it for the rest of your life but too young to do anything but be terrified while it's happening. He doesn't actually remember the accident because he blacked out somewhere after the car's third flip, and he didn't wake up until he was out of surgery and in a hospital room where his dad and grandparents were all sitting around in tears. He remembers everything after that. He remembers the pain and the doctors quietly explaining to his father that his spinal cord was so damaged that he would possibly never walk again.

Mostly he remembers crying for his mom and wanting her so badly but not being able to see her.

She got better and got out of the hospital after just a few days. But those first days when he was so scared and hurting so much, he just wanted his mom, and he couldn't see her. His dad was there and some other family members, but it wasn't the same. The nurses whispered over him, and the doctors used a bunch of words he didn't understand. It was so scary.

He's not sure how he would react if it were to happen now. Like if he'd had a totally normal childhood and just woke up today in the hospital with doctors saying he would probably never be able to use his legs again. He doesn't know if it'd be better or worse. He'd still be scared, but he can't decide if it'd be even scarier now than it was when he was eight or if he'd be better able to handle it. In a way, being so young and not understanding what the doctors were saying probably benefited him because he was able to pretend like things weren't as bad as they really were. If it happened now… he doesn't think he'd be able to pretend much at all.

He thinks about Quinn, waking up in a hospital bed. In pain and scared. She's pretty strong, but he doesn't know anyone who could go through what he went through and not be terrified. He feels really bad for her, and he wishes they knew some kind of details, mostly just so they could know for sure that she's okay.

At this point, knowing that she's going to be okay would be worth the flashbacks.

…

Quinn wakes up to total blackness.

It's a very odd sensation, like she's awake but unable to open her eyes. Her head feels so heavy, like it weighs a hundred pounds, and her eyelids feel almost as heavy. She can't move them, can't make them open no matter how hard she tries.

She can hear a beeping noise, some kind of machine, and she can hear voices that seem really far away. She tries to say something, but her mouth won't work, either. It's then that she registers the pain in her throat- it feels raw and dry, and she tries to swallow, but it's just too much. The rest of her body feels numb, though, except for a dull ache at the back of her head.

She feels weird. She doesn't know what's going on or where she is, but she's so tired that she's not sure she can really figure it out, either. She tries again to make her voice work, but it just won't, so she gives up. Maybe she's dreaming, and she just needs a few minutes to actually wake up.

But she's so _tired. _

The voices seem a little closer now. She can hear two women talking… one might be her mother. She can't imagine who else would be there, though; it's not like they ever have visitors. But yes, she's pretty sure that's her mother's voice.

It occurs to her that despite the fact that she can't open her eyes or move her mouth, she's rarely felt more peaceful. It's serene and calm, and she feels almost like she's drifting somewhere between being awake and being asleep. Even the pain in her throat and her head don't seem too terrible once she gives into the calmness. It's nice. She could stay like this forever. Maybe she will.

But she can't stay like that for very long. Eventually the heaviness on her eyelids lightens, and she feels them begin to flutter. It takes her a few seconds to actually get them open, and when she does, she immediately closes them again against the bright light.

"Quinn?" It's a woman's voice, not her mother's, and it's no longer far away. It seems to be right beside her, and she forces her eyes open again to see the source. The lights are still bright, but they're no longer blinding, and she sees a middle-aged woman in pink scrubs standing over her.

She's in a hospital.

"How do you feel?"

Quinn wants to open her mouth and say she feels nothing, but the pain in her throat makes saying anything too difficult. The lady, a nurse apparently, just gives her a smile and nods like she gave some kind of answer anyway.

"The doctor will be in shortly to check up on her." The nurse is now speaking to someone else, and Quinn moves her eyes across the room to where her mother is standing. She's never seen her look so terrible in her whole life- messy and tired and obviously very worried. Her mother nods, and the nurse leaves.

"Honey?" She watches as her mother comes closer to the bed; she moves slowly, almost like she's afraid to approach or something. "Are you okay? Do you hurt?"

She manages to shake her head, but she still can't fight her throat enough to answer verbally. Her mother puts a hand on her forehead and pushes some hair away. She's been crying, and Quinn can tell she's about to start again. She doesn't know what's going on, though, so she forces her mouth to open and say, "What happened?" even though the pain in her throat feels like it's literally ripping through her.

"You were in a car accident…" Her mother bites down on her lip like she can't force the words out. "You've been in surgery."

So that explains the throat pain. She must have had a tube or something, but if she's just out of surgery, why can't she feel anything else? Is the anesthesia so good that it wards off pain even post-surgery? Or maybe she's got morphine pumping into her body. But… She looks at her mother and knows there's a lot more to it than just a car accident.

"Just relax, baby." The only thing she can focus on is the way her mother's eyes are watering. This… No. No, she needs to wake up. If she tries really hard, she can force herself awake. She's always been able to do that in the middle of her most terrifying nightmares.

But no matter how hard she tells herself to wake up, nothing happens.

Nothing.

…


End file.
